


Far from the Tree

by KaRaEa



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, assorted Avengers and MCU cast, spontaneous ressurection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:04:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9577337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaRaEa/pseuds/KaRaEa
Summary: Howard is alive. No one knows how or why, or why he's been brought back younger than Tony himself. And no one quite knows what to do with him either (Tony has some ideas, none of them good), but all of SHEILD seems to agree on one subject: an extra Stark, and one historically more stable than Tony, is a useful thing to have.Tony doesn't quite see it the same way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure on my pairings quite yet, or if there even will be any pairings. Suggestions are welcome and will be heeded but not necessarily followed depending on what I'm feeling for this particular fic.

Howard is the picture of an injured hero, limping in on Cap's arm, surrounded by young SHEILD agents eager to meet the legend. The myth really. Howard has only grown smarter and braver and more charismatic in death apparently, and he's lapping up the attention in his... undeath.

It's been a week now. A week during which Tony has had absolute minimum interaction as SHEILD catches Howard up to the modern day and decides just how permanent his resurrection is likely to be, and how public to make it. There's no doubt it's him. Tony's looked over the test results himself. Even without them, he's heard the man talk. There can be no faking Howard Stark. Tony of all people knows that.

Coulson, though now handler to a whole new bunch of miscreants after his own kind of resurrection, has come back for this and Tony isn't sure whether it's to meet the hero or make sure Tony doesn't do anything stupid. Probably both.

Tony snorts as Howard casually signs a young SHEILD agent's chest. Above the cleavage, no opening of the uniform necessary, but for Howard's era he may as well have grabbed the poor girl by the breasts. Not that she seems to mind. He can hear Natasha sigh beside him, though he's not sure whether it's at him or his father.

"He's like all the worst parts of you," Natasha mutters.

That insult probably shouldn't send warm, happy feelings through his gut. Tony tears his eyes away from the image of his father on the screen long enough to look at Nat's face. He's not sure at what point he first began to be able to read her, and he's still not even vaguely sure if the ability comes from familiarity or her letting her guard down. Either one is weirdly flattering when associated with her. He smiles a little. "Most people would say I'm the worst parts of him."

Nat's slightly raised eyebrows and the tightening of her lips that lasts all of a nanosecond is all Tony needs to know about her thoughts on that theory.

"How'd he get out long enough to fight mutant rats anyway?" Tony asks. "I thought he was under lockdown at the very least until they decide whether to let the press know. Not to mention he didn't pass his physical by a long shot. There should have been agents swarming him the moment he got out of the holding room."

Natasha looks him in the eye and folds her arms.

Tony sighs. "Of course. They wanted him out there, didn't they? Some kind of test?"

Her gaze goes back to the screen and he knows he's right.

"Do they want him in the field?"

"No," Natasha pauses for barely a moment, weighing her response. "He was never a field agent. But he's useful. He'll do things, make things that you refuse to."

"Weapons."

"Yes."

Tony tries to keep calm, tries not to let visions of Howard, this young reanimated version of him, replacing Tony, cloud his judgement. No matter what, Howard isn't getting the suit. Tony would blow up every version he's got plus all the designs he's ever drafted, with himself inside, before he ever let Howard pilot one. And he's pretty sure Pepper feels the same about S.I.

"They want to give him a new identity," Natasha continues, and goddamn but he knows she's not supposed to be telling him this. 

Tony's lips twitch. "He'll never go for it."

"One idea was that he be identified as your son," She adds.

It takes a moment of horrified silence before he can even begin to respond to that. True, this version of Howard is younger than him but... "I'd have had to be a dad at seven years old for that to work."

Natasha shrugs and Tony knows something's up. Natasha doesn't shrug.

"What are you... Wait. One idea. Was. That one got scrapped right? You're letting me in gently for something," Tony says suspiciously. He thinks for a moment, getting nothing from Natasha's carefully blank face. It hits him like a ton of bricks. "Brother. They're thinking of saying he's my brother, aren't they." It's not a question. It's the best cover available. Howard would get to keep the Stark name, have rights to sue for an inheritance and shares of S.I, and his resemblance to himself would be explained. It wasn't like Howard had been known as a chaste man during his pre-death, it would barely be questioned beyond a 'why have you only now come forward'.

Natasha leans slightly towards him, shoulder just brushing his for a moment. Something that from her, especially in Black Widow mode, might as well be a hug and a pat on the back.

"He's not getting the company."

Natasha nods. "He'll try. With you having stepped down, he'll argue that it's his right to take your place. But it could go either way. Pepper's an experienced, competent C.E.O. Despite their misgivings about her I doubt the board will back a recently discovered illegitimate son's bid to replace her."

"So what's the verdict? What are the results for whatever kind of stupid test this was?" Tony asks once the screen empties of people.

"They weren't testing _him_."

Tony shakes his head. "Of course. So what's the verdict?"

She eyes him for a moment. "You stayed calm, no impulse control problems, no actionable anxiety or anger. My report will recommend that you be brought in to jointly manage the project. You do know him best, after all."

Tony actually laughs at that. "Oh, Howard will love that."

Natasha smirks, just a little.

"You mean girl. You're doing this on purpose. What did he do to upset you?" Tony asks.

She doesn't answer for a moment, then turns her full attention on him, holding eye contact. "He insulted a member of my team."

 

Turns out, against all odds Natasha isn't the only person to dislike Howard. Bruce tolerates him the way he tolerates most people, Clint thinks he's hilarious, Thor likes him as much as he likes anyone, Fury seems a bit too familiar with him for Tony's peace of mind. And well, obviously Steve's happy to see him. But Coulson doesn't like him. Like, really doesn't like him. If Tony thought he got a rough time from the man, the cold way Coulson talks to Howard makes that look like friendly ribbing.

Coulson is informally consulting for the Howard Rehabilitation Program (SHEILD has an official name for it, but Tony refuses to take it seriously) and has passed off his other team to Hill for a few weeks in order to do so. The team consists of Nat, who Tony is smart enough to realise isn't there for Howard any more than she was during Howard's 'escape' mission, Coulson who isn't officially involved, Steve who at least has some experience in waking up in the future, and a scary SHEILD psychoanalyst called Beth. Heading up the team are Tony and a woman Tony is told holds a position slightly below Fury but who acts eerily similarly to Hill. He'd be flattered about being joint boss if he didn't realise early on he has next to no authority but all of the paperwork. Most likely they only agreed to Nat's recommendation in order to keep him distracted and monitored.

He still hasn't been alone in a room with his father.

It's stupid. It may be Howard, but he's even younger than Tony, he's not the same Howard that raised him by a long shot. He's not really Tony's father.

But.

Every time he's around the man, Tony feels seven years old again. Feels the weight of disappointment and disinterest. In a way it's even worse. This new Howard seems to be deliberately putting himself in competition with Tony. He's spent every spare moment catching up on Tony's work and immediately trying to 'improve' it. He's already snuck out to fight with the Avengers.  And no amount of brain bleach in the world will erase the stomach turning spectacle of Howard trying to hit on Pepper. Tony had worried that Howard wouldn't take the idea of a female C.E.O for his legacy well, but oh no, as Howard had assured Pepper, he likes 'bossy' women. A lot. 

The door opening breaks Tony's reverie and he quickly tries to look productive and busy instead of mopey and petulant. 

"Stark," Coulson says. He even says the name differently for Tony and Howard. "We have a situation."

"A Howard situation or an Avengers situation?" Tony asks. It probably doesn't speak well of his priorities that he'd much prefer dealing with a supervillain than Howard. So far his role in the Howard Rehabilitation Program has been pretty passive and he likes it that way.

Coulson purses his lips.

"Great. Just give me a few hours to tie this up and-"

Coulson cuts him off with a look. "Stark, now."

Tony sighs and spends an unnecessary amount of time saving the few minor adjustment to a line of security coding he's altered since Coulson has been standing there. "Okay, I'm all yours. What's the problem?"

Coulson just gestures him through the door.

They reach Howard's room in the holding wing at a fast, clipped pace and without speaking.

Outside Howard's door, Coulson stops him. "You have to understand, Howard represents a very valuable asset to SHEILD and Fury didn't want to lose him. This is the best option we have for keeping him contained as well as loyal."

Tony freezes. "What did you sonsofbitches do?"

"Howard Stark is now your responsibility. You are, in effect, his handler and his guardian. He will live with, work with and report to you, and through you, to Fury," Coulson says. "To all appearances, he will be your recently discovered younger brother who you are introducing to the high profile life of a Stark heir."

Tony curses and paces a little way down the corridor. "The brother thing I was expecting, but why can't Beth be his fake wife or something? Why do I get stuck babysitting?"

Coulson winces. "We recommended it."

"We?" Tony asks darkly.

"Myself, Natasha and Beth. We all think-"

"Bullshit. I don't care what weird, manipulative motivation you have, I won't do it," Tony nearly spits. "Do you even know what this is like for me? My dead Dad just walked through the door seven years younger than me, with no memory of me and even less affection for me than he had when he did remember me. I had to tell Pepper she might lose the company. The second I'm alone with him, I'm going to have to explain why I tore down his empire of war and built a green energy company instead. And now you want to force me into playing house with him? No. Fuck you."

"We know. We debated this thoroughly before coming to this decision. Beth thinks you stand the best chance of keeping him out of trouble, you're the only one that can keep up with him and he has a vested interest in you. Natasha thinks this might give you an opportunity to gain some closure, and I think this might your best shot at keeping his mind and hands off your company," Coulson says.

Tony grits his teeth and gestures expansively. "Open the fucking door then. No need to delay the good news."

Coulson does as he's asked. 

In the room, Howard is scanning through a tablet (not one that Tony designed, he's tried not to let Howard near his tech since his return. Petty but satisfying) with an ease that would challenge anyone to say he hadn't even heard of one last Tuesday.

"Hey Pops, looks like you're coming home with me. I hope you like big windows," Tony says, and turns on his heel. 

Couslon sighs and explains the situation more fully while Tony escapes down the corridor, phone already dialling Pepper.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far the most suggested pairing is Pepperony, with the only other suggested pairing being Iron Husbands. Choosing is sooo hard. Honestly, I love pretty much every Tony ship and I've not written most of them yet.   
> For now, the fic will remain gen, but both pairings are being strongly considered and eventually this fic will end up with a pairing, because Tony deserves all the love.

Tony manages to avoid a one on one with dear old Dad for another four hours.

Pepper has done her best, but for all that she makes allowances she's not Tony's PA anymore. She's a busy woman with a company to run and a self-appointed position within Iron Man's legal team. And yes, superheroes can have a legal team, especially when they get sued as often as Iron Man. Weirdly, he's only have two civilian cases so far, the rest all government or corporation based and mostly trying to wheedle tech out of Tony through bizarre legal precedents dating back to the days of yore.

So Howard eventually finds the workshop and gains access. Tony can only guess SHEILD is to blame for that one, even Howard couldn't catch up quick enough to hack JARVIS. Tony, who is covered in fire extinguisher foam and yelling at DUM-E when it happens, is overwhelmed. He just set himself on fire (don't ask), got nearly drowned by his bot, then found Howard watching it all happen. Embarrassed, angry, frustrated, and honestly about two seconds away from literally flying away from the situation.

Howard just looks smug and infuriating, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyebrows raised, a smirk hovering at the corners of his mouth.

"What? What do you want?" Tony snaps, trying with little success to look dignified while emptying his ear of foam. "And how the hell did you get in here?"

Howard actually laughs.

Tony turns away, grabbing the towel YOU holds out to him and going back to the prototype flamethrower component he'd been working on. Ironically, a component more concerned with keeping the armour around it cool than actually producing fire. The metal table it sits on, not even the specifically designed alloy of the armour, isn't even warm.

"Having some trouble?" Howard asks when Tony begins cursing and pulling burned fabric from where it had caught in the wiring. 

"I'm fine," Tony lies. He's a little bit singed, but it's not the minor burns that are responsible for his not-fine status. His head is a mess and he hasn't slept in 32 hours. While he may have convinced most people in his acquaintance that he can function perfectly well without sleeping for days, that's only partially true. Fine motor skills are, unfortunately, highly necessary in his line of work. As is concentration. Neither of those things are exactly at their peak when sleep deprived, as evidenced by the burns now decorating his wrist.

"Did I never teach you to use safety wear?" Howard asks.

Tony shrugs. Howard, despite their similar interests, never taught him much of anything. Not directly or deliberately anyway. The lack of safety is on Tony though. He hadn't thought he'd need it for this.

Howard takes the lack of verbal answer in his stride. "Is this part of that... thing you fight in?" 

"The suit? No. This is for a friend." Rhodey had asked. Tony couldn't say no to Rhodey. 

Howard raises his eyebrows. "You didn't think a nice watch or a case of cigars would be more appropriate?"

"No." Tony stows the flamethrower parts away from Howard's prying eyes and pulls up something more mundane. A motherboard for a new Stark tech project, small enough that he needs a magnifier to see what he's doing. No way Howard will be able to see it properly.

"Anything I can help with? I know I'm a little behind the times but I can still make myself useful," Howard offers. He sounds so eager that Tony actually feels a little guilty. Only a little though.

"Nah, I've already got assistants." Tony gestures to the bots who whirr happily and decide to demonstrate by passing him a screwdriver he doesn't need. He takes it anyway.

"Incredible," Howard says, approaching DUM-E with a look that says he wants to take the bot apart and figure out how he works. "Is it remote controlled? Voice controlled?"

"Limited AI," Tony says. "Makes his own decisions mostly."

Howard looks more impressed by magnitudes than the older version of himself did when first introduced to DUM-E. That is, he actually looks impressed. Tony tries not to let that affect him. "Are these common? Does Stark Industries sell them?"

"No, they don't really have much market appeal," Tony lies. Really it's a much more sentimental motivation that prevented him releasing his AI programs for consumers. Even absolutely stripped back. "Higher tech than the job needs, and not much use outside of their intended function. People prefer stuff to be sleeker. Poor guys are a little retro for the millennials."

Howard goes quiet, looking around the workshop in fascination as Tony keeps working. Unlike when it's one of the Avengers, or Pepper or Rhodey, Tony can't zone out and forget Howard is there. He's like an itch deep inside Tony's ear. Impossible to ignore but impossible to do anything about without risking serious damage.

Eventually Tony's patience wears thin. "Did you want something?"

Howard blinks and looks up from where he's staring at a hologram interface displaying the building layout. "Just thought I'd come and see why SHEILD thinks you're so irreplaceable."

Tony snorts. The Avengers don't even think he's irreplaceable, let alone SHEILD. "Yeah, well."

"I thought you'd be chatty," Howard says.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Tony gives up on working and goes to get the scotch. He doesn't need to ask if Howard wants any. He hands over the second glass and leans back against the worktable.

"Steve told me you never shut up," Howard continues, "and I thought you'd have a thing or two to say to me."

"You never wanted to hear it before, not sure why you'd want to now," Tony mutters, only half intending for Howard to hear it. Then, "If you're bored, there's a massive TV in the living room and access to pretty much every movie ever made. Why don't you go check it out? Pop culture is pretty important in this day and age."

"Steve gets by fine," Howard says.

"Steve secretly enjoys people's awkwardness when they think he doesn't understand them. He watches movies. I've seen him watch movies, he's practically a cinephile." Tony pokes at one of the sore spots on his wrist. "Hey, maybe you should call him and you can go to an actual movie theatre together. Maybe get in a fistfight after for old times' sake."

"Jealousy doesn't look good on you," Howard snipes.

Tony shrugs. "Not jealous. Annoyed. I have work to do here and you're in the way."

"I told you, I can make myself useful."

"Not in my workshop you can't," Tony snaps back. "You may have been the big man in your time, but this is my time, my home. Mine. And what I say goes."

"So I've noticed. Was it your call to keep me from getting my company back? Or stop me from working with Steve?" Howard asks. His tone is more bitter and young than Tony remembers his father's ever being.

"The company? Sure. It's not your company. Hasn't been in over three decades. You wouldn't even recognise it, let alone have the first clue how to run it. The Avengers is Fury's call. You just weren't good enough," Tony practically spits. Something in him screams triumph at the revenge in his words.

"And you are? You're older, drunker and probably stupider than me," Howard argues. "Anyone could hop inside your toy and do what you do. It takes a real man to fight on his own merit. Something I'll bet you've never done."

Tony scoffs and chucks back the rest of his drink. "You wanna have a go? Take a joy ride?" He strides over to the wall and calls up an older suit. One Howard might actually stand a chance at flying. Fury would have his head if he let Howard get himself killed on Tony's watch. "Here you go. Hop on in."

Howard looks almost scared for all of a millisecond before determination and arrogance takes over. The suit opens automatically, JARVIS silently monitoring the situation. Howard steps inside and the suit closes back up.

A moment later the suit still hasn't moved. Tony chuckles to himself, "J, don't be a smart ass. Unlock the damn thing."

The arms move, followed by the feet. Somewhat unbalanced, though. It's not strictly fair of course, Tony has JARVIS assist him whenever he flies the suit. But he has done without before. The early suits barely had any assistance at all, and the connection has been cut more than once. Not to mention the tests at the beginning, the original suit from Afghanistan, and the occasions when he's only worn some components from the suit, and not the helmet with the HUD or the control panels in the chest piece. 

"JARVIS will help you with some basic instructions if you want," Tony offers generously. "You'll have to work out the rest yourself. It shouldn't be too hard though. After all, anyone can do it, right?"

Howard fires up the repulsors in the boots and immediately launches himself up three feet and backwards into the wall before falling back down, trying to control the fall with sporadic bursts from the boots and ending up several meters from where he started, having knocked half the equipment off a worktable along the way. 

Tony doesn't laugh. He's too smug to laugh, too full of petty satisfaction. "Get up," he says. "In a battle you've gotta get up fast. The armour's tough, but so are the guys the Avengers deal with." And no, Tony didn't fly that model for the first time in the middle of battle with no prior experience and no JARVIS, but that's almost the point. He learned how to be Iron Man, he created everything that makes it possible. It's a skill, one he's developed with hard work and determination. And then there was the original suit. Tony would challenge anyone to move in it, let along fly that hunk of beautiful junk. Tony himself did it for the first time while dehydrated, exhausted and completely overwhelmed, surrounded by terrorists and a dying friend. The way he sees it, Howard's first go in an Iron Man suit is a walk in the park.

Howard stumbles to his feet. His movements are getting smoother, to his credit, but he doesn't try to use the repulsors again just yet. He walks around a little, returns to his starting point. Tries again. Fails again.

Forty minutes later and Tony calls a halt. He'll give Howard this, he's a persistent sonofabitch, but Tony's getting bored (that's a lie, this is hilarious and satisfying in equal measure) and he'd rather like his workshop not to be totally destroyed. 

JARVIS locks down the suit and opens it up to let Howard out. Howard looks more pissed off than anything.

Tony pats him on the shoulder. "Good first time try," and it probably is. There's not much comparison to go by. Howard is only the fifth person in the world to pilot an Iron Man suit, and only the second to do it without any assistance (Iron Monger didn't have JARVIS, but it did have some pretty nifty software to help out). 

"Another half an hour and I would've had it," Howard insists in a tone Tony gloatingly identifies as petulant. 

"Mhm. I'm sure," Tony replies in as patronising a tone as he can manage. "But unfortunately, I wasn't lying when I said I have work to be getting on with, and having you zoom around the room breaking my equipment is kind of a hindrance."

There's something about Howard's expression that's a little too familiar. And not from any incarnation of Howard himself. From Tony. Whenever Howard shooed him out of the workshop for being in the way.

Tony feels a headache coming on. "But if you want you can play with some schematics on the holodisplay over there," He points to the furthest display from himself.  "There's a couple of things we're working on for SI that you might be able to wrap your head around."

Howard's expression lightens, though he doesn't deign to give any thanks or even acknowledge the concession. He just nods and goes to the display.

"J, fire up some of the schematics for the SI solar projects. The ones Howard might know a thing or two about." Tony wastes no time in bringing out the flame thrower component again, though he does take some safety wear from the hidden cabinet under the workstation. He has every faith in JARVIS to know what's appropriate and what's not, and to warn Tony if Howard tries to pry into anything he shouldn't.

DUM-E picks up the fire extinguisher again and Tony sets to work.


	3. Chapter 3

JARVIS never allows Tony to be woken by phone calls anymore. Even urgent ones are put on hold while he rouses Tony with his usual routine. There are very good reasons for why, but those who end up put on hold or rejected altogether very rarely see it that way.

When Tony leaves his bedroom at midday over a week after Howard moving in he has five missed calls and a very annoyed Steve Rogers waiting in his living room.

"Hey, Cap. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company and harassment?" Tony asks, looking around for Howard. He'd assumed a visit from Steve would draw Howard out better than expensive whiskey.

"Howard is at SHEILD," Steve answers the unasked rather than the asked question. "He's starting designs on a suit."

"He never expressed any interest in tailoring before but the guy does like his fashion." Tony skims through some displays on the window. None of his designs have been touched. Howard has to be starting from scratch.

"Stark..."

Tony turns. "I know. But I'm pretty sure everyone had to have seen this coming. SHEILD must be thrilled."

"You're not doing anything about it?" Steve looks confused and righteous. How he usually looks when around Tony.

"And what should I be doing? Tell me, because I've been trying to figure that out since he got here. Why don't you do something about it? He might actually listen to you. Or maybe Fury would. Neither of those sonsofbitches is going to let me get further than 'don't'." Tony really wants breakfast. Or lunch. Whichever it is when it's the first meal of the day but it's after 12:00.

"I tried. The suit is too powerful, I don't trust SHEILD's intentions," Steve says.

"Really? There's personal development for you. I thought you were all for SHEILD," Tony muses. "Of course, that was before you saw their shiny magic lasers. Still, you've never been too happy about me being the only guy with the technology."

Steve shakes his head. "We're wasting time here."

"Why? You think he's going to be able to catch up to a few decades of technological advancement plus my own personal work is the few minutes it takes us to have a chat? I mean, with us Starks it's possible, but I'd still say unlikely." Tony pulls up everything that Howard's ever looked at from S.I's design files. The arc reactor is the only worrying thing Howard accessed, but seeing as the guy designed the reactor, or was going to before he was plucked from time, Tony can't justify being angry about that. "Look, Howard isn't the only person to try to make a suit. Wouldn't even be the first person to succeed, but he might just be the only near sane guy to make the attempt. It'll take him a while to catch up to me at the very least, and he won't have JARVIS."

"You're saying we shouldn't worry about this?" Steve asks, incredulous.

Tony sighs. "No. You should absolutely worry. I'm just saying worse things have happened, and this hasn't even happened yet."

It takes a moment for Steve to untangle Tony's words. Presumably because Tony's usually about a thousand times more protective of his work. When he does, he holds Tony's gaze for a moment. "You better be right, Stark."

"Usually am," Tony says to Steve's retreating back. 

 

After two cups of coffee and a dubious smoothie courtesy of DUM-E, Tony calls Natasha.

"He's not made any real progress," Natasha greets him with. "It seems to be frustrating him."

Tony chuckles. "You should have seen him try to fly one of the things."

"You let him use a suit?" Natasha somehow sounds both surprised and resigned.

"Only for a few minutes. No harm done," Tony reassures her. "Nowhere near long enough for him to figure out how any of it works."

"Steve's upset. He was expecting you to fix everything," Natasha tells him.

"He's already back there?" Tony asks.

"For about fifteen minutes. If anything he's handling Howard being back worse than you are. Apparently a Howard with no war to win isn't as appealing as the one Steve knew," Natasha says. She sounds more satisfied than she should be.

"You're such a gossip. Honestly, between you and Clint it's surprising all of SHEILD's secrets aren't circulating hairdressers and coffee shops all over the country," Tony teases. He pulls up a project he was working on for SHEILD and considers it a moment, before swapping it out for an S.I project. "Keep me updated?"

"Of course."

Tony smiles. Not long ago it would have been 'absolutely not'. Not long ago her loyalty was to SHEILD and only SHEILD. Not long ago it was Tony who was 'not recommended' instead of Howard. "Wanna grab coffee some time in the week?"

"As long as you let me choose the place," Natasha answers. "That last place was identical to Starbucks apart from the pricing and I am not paying thirty dollars for a latte again."

Tony hangs up with the smile still on his face and gets to work. If he finishes this project ahead of schedule Pepper might let him get out of the three meetings he has next week.

 

Next time he surfaces, Steve is back and has Clint with him. Both look uncomfortable, though Clint at least makes an attempt to hide it.

"What's up?" Tony greets. He knew he should have left the workshop before the working day began. He could have avoided everyone so easily if he'd just attempted to sleep when it was dark outside like a normal person.

"You've not been coming to training sessions," Steve starts.

Tony pulls a face. "I never come to training sessions, but go on."

"Your daddy's noticed," Clint picks up the thread. "And he's started turning up uninvited. We think Tasha might actually murder him if he makes one more crack about it being the 'way he wants to go' whenever she takes someone out with her legs."

"And he keeps interrupting with anecdotes from our Howling Commando days," Steve adds. "It's really distracting."

"So tell him it's a private team practise," Tony suggests.

"Hard to convince him when neither you nor Bruce ever show up and Thor's off world," Steve argues. 

"So why are you here instead of at Bruce's place pestering him?" Tony asks, though he already knows the answer just from how uncomfortable they've both looked this entire time.

Steve shifts. "If you're there..."

Clint rolls his eyes as Steve trails off. "If you come along he'll either try to fight you, lose horribly and leave forever in a sulk, or he'll just plain leave forever 'cause of your face."

Tony waits until he's turned on the coffee machine before he turns back to continue the conversation. "So basically you're asking me to come to team practise for the sole purpose of repelling my dad?"

Two guilty nods.

"Why didn't you just say so? Repelling my dad has been something of a hobby since my early childhood," Tony says. "I'll be there tomorrow. It is training day tomorrow, right?"

"Yep," Clint pops the 'p' in satisfaction. "Be sure to wear your smuggest, most assholey shades and be ready to beat up your own dad."

 

As it happens one of those meetings he was trying to bribe Pepper into letting him out of was two hours before training and he hadn't finished any toys to bribe her with, so he turns up late and in a suit. Business casual, not high tech armour. 

The others are already going at it, darting around the room like the unholy combination of a martial arts tournament and a kid's birthday party. 

Howard is sat on one of the resting benches near the door. He has a grin on his face that Tony barely remembers from his childhood. 

"Sorry I'm late," Tony announces his presence. He isn't all that sorry in all honesty. There's a reason he doesn't do training with the team too often, mainly that he doesn't want to. "You know Pep, slave driver that she is."

"She lets you get away with far too much," Natasha tells him, then goes back to spinning herself out of the way of Clint's rubber arrows. Steve swings his shield and she rolls neatly under it, coming up on the edge of the field and gesturing Tony in. "Come on, it's two against one so I'm claiming you for my side."

Tony tilts his head and watches her sidestep another arrow without breaking her stare. "Side? What happened to training as a team against multiple SHIELD minions?"

"They said they won't play with us anymore. We're too rowdy," Clint replies, and fires another shot, this one at Tony's face.

Tony backs up automatically, saved from a face full of rubber only by Natasha's hand swatting the arrow away. "Watch it! Un-enhanced human here. At least give a minute to get me gear on."

Clint shruggs and shoots at Steve instead. 

"Ow! Turncoat," Steve laughs as the arrow hits his shoulder and turns to chase Clint down, ascending the climbing wall Clint is perched on with alarming speed.

Tony raises his arms to summon the suit, but Natasha stops him with a tap to the arm. "What?"

"Gauntlets only. We need to work on you fitness and reaction times outside of the suit," Natasha explains.

"Fine," Tony raises his arms unimpeded this time and flexes. He can't resist a glance at Howard as the gauntlets come flying in through the door. It would have been more fun but less impressive if he hadn't recently programmed a non-urgent mode that meant pieces of the suit sail in avoiding all obstacles rather than smashing through the walls. A second gesture and the incoming pieces assemble beside Howard, only the gauntlets equipping to Tony. "Watch that for me would ya?" Tony says to Howard with a smug wink.

He's less smug five minutes later as Clint nails him with a third arrow while Tony's still catching Steve's punch in a titanium palm. Group training. Really not his thing.

Natasha drop kicks Steve, diverting his attention and moving to straddle him and sting him with her dummy widow bites.

"Mind if I switch places with you?" Howard leers.

Steve's mindless smile dissipates. Natasha darts off, performing her impressive gymnastics around a volley of arrows, still getting caught with one much to Clint's very vocal glee.

"Gee, Dad, you never struck me as having a hard on for Steve before, but I guess it kind of makes sense," Tony provokes. 

Howard pulls a face. "I didn't mean-"

"Hey, it's alright. It's legal now," Tony interrupts, taking double pleasure from the grimace on his father's face and the blush on Steve's. "Steve's an old fashioned romantic, though. You're gonna have to romance him if you want a shot at straddling him. Isn't that right, Cap?"

"Iron Man, quit the chatter and get to work," Steve tells him firmly, face bright red but making an admirable attempt to look professional.

"Sure thing," Tony says and promptly begins shooting at him. The first blast goes wide, but the second hits Steve's upheld shield. "But I can do both. And apparently so can my dad."

"Show some respect," Howard snaps.

Tony fires a wide spread of blasts and ducks behind a fake wall. "I could say the same thing to you. The Black Widow is a valued member of this team, and more to the point the only reason you aren't dead six ways from Sunday is that she has a phenomenal amount of self control. Still, it's gonna run out eventually. I'd hate to be the guy catcalling her when it does."

Howard is quiet for a good while after that, watching the team without comment. When, during a round half an hour after Tony's arrival, Steve fights against all three of the others, he breaks his silence only to 'help' Steve. "Behind you!"

Steve pauses for a split second to look at Howard, turning too late to defend against Natasha's kick to the head. He staggeres back and just about manages to block her second hit.

"Thanks, Dad. That was a real help," Tony quips cheerily and hits Steve square in the back with a low powered blast.

There's a moment where Tony thinks Howard might break at last and start a fight, but it passes with little more than a glare and some inaudible muttering.

When it's Tony's turn to fight three against one Howard shamelessly cheers the others on, even getting up from his seat to celebrate Tony taking Steve's shield to the knee. Steve didn't throw it at full force, and it's his practise shield anyway, but it still hurts like hell. He has to hobble his way to his next defensive position.

They finish up shortly afterwards, Steve apologising profusely for hurting Tony, though Tony can't help but think a little bit of that is about reminding Tony that he lost. Howard trails them to the mess hall and takes the seat nearest Steve, then immediately starts in on a story from the good old days, nudging Steve to fill in some blanks here and there and laughing over memories of Steve's fumbling skill at talking to women.

In spite of Clint's pleading look Tony leaves as soon as he's stuffed his sad excuse for a pie down his throat. He promised to come to practise, not sit and listen to stories Howard told him a million times when he was younger. Probably 70% of all of Tony's interaction with his father growing up had been Howard talking about the glory days and asking Tony why he couldn't man up and be more like those WWII heroes Howard seemingly missed so much. Hearing the same again is not on Tony's agenda. 

 

"Have fun?" Pepper asks as he flopps down onto the couch next to her.

Tony responds with a groan.

Pepper hums sympathetically. "Would it help if I told you I'm sending you to Japan for a week?" 

"You are a goddess," Tony replies. Then, "Wait, this is on business, isn't it?"

"Yes, but it still gets you away from Howard for a week," Pepper says.

Tony thinks it over. "Can I take the party jet?"

Pepper rolls her eyes but doesn't outright forbid it. "Promise me you're not going to go on self-destructive spiral because of your daddy issues."

"Harsh, Pep," Tony protests. 

"Are you denying that the thought's occurred to you?"

"...No."

"So promise me."

Tony sighs. "Fine. I promise."

"Then you can take the party jet."

 

The party jet seems like a poor decision when he steps onto it to find Howard staring down one of the stewardess's dress.

"What are you doing here?" Tony blurts.

Howard grins. "Taking a trip to the Japan office to have a look around. This is my company after all."

Tony manfully resists the urge to punch his own father. "Actually, you have minority shares. Pepper and I own and run S.I together. We didn't even have offices in Japan in your day."

However much he wishes he could, Tony can't kick Howard out of the jet. Technically it's company property, and minority share holder Howard might be, but as far as the world is concerned he's the bastard son cheated out of a fortune finally reunited with his big brother. He has more power than Tony would like to admit.

It's a long flight. Howard sleazes over the staff the entire way, drinks half the good liquor on board and plays old crooner tracks that Tony despises. If he thought it wouldn't make Howard deliberately make the flight a living hell, he would cut the man off from the bar and put on his own music. As it is he listens to several hours of Rat Pack and Sinatra without a single AC/DC or Iron Maiden track thrown in.

They finally land sometime around noon local time and Tony intends to separate from Howard immediately and grab lunch before locking himself in his office. He has a presentation due that evening and a wine and dine meeting straight after, both an attempt to sign on some Japanese production company as a subsidiary to increase their local holdings. Japan is _the_ place for new blood in several areas S.I is interested in, and they want a large enough presence there to draw in potential employees and investors. 

One move in a long line of moves leading to an end goal in maybe two years time. 

Basically, a very important trip. 

Tony wants to rest up and enjoy himself a little in preparation for a week of careful negotiations and acting. What he doesn't want is Howard hanging off his shoulder making quips about the 'Japs' role in WWII.

"Where to now?" Howard asks as they step off the jet.

"For you, there's a suit in a local hotel I'll have a driver take you to," Tony answers. 

"You're not coming?"

"I've got preparations to make for tonight," Tony says, trying his best to give off a 'it's going to be mind numbingly boring' vibe.

Howard nods. "Then I should come with you. Wouldn't want to let the side down when we talk to the men in suits."

Tony freezes. "We?"

"I've got a lot to catch up on, but I still know how to schmooze," Howard defends himself in a way he never did as Tony's father. "If I want to play a part in this company, this is good as any place to start."

Tony hesitates. "You do know the Japanese are pretty big on decorum, right?"

Howard scoffs. "I know how to do business."

Tony gives up. The trip is doomed no matter what he does. His options are to let Howard join him and try to rein him in, or ban him from the meetings and have him show up determined to reek vengeance. Personally, Tony would almost have prefer to deal with the latter, but Pepper would never forgive him if he didn't at least try to mitigate the damage.

Lunch is at least entertaining. For rich guy Howard hadn't done a lot of foreign delicacies before his Dr Who impression, and it's more than fun to watch him try sushi for the first time. Especially when Tony conveniently 'forgets' to warn him to go easy on the wasabi.

In the office afterwards Howard is surprisingly quiet, reading the files Tony gave him with impressive concentration and only breaking to ask pertinent questions. Tony almost forgets he's there a few times, lost in tweaking his presentation and every now and then deviating to some design projects he wants to get done before he gets back to the US. 

When it comes time to get ready for the presentation and meal, Howard turns back into the man Tony can't stand and insists on helping Tony pick out a suit. Tony prefers the one Pepper had picked before he left. 


	4. Chapter 4

Tony heads for the liquor cabinet in his suite before he really thinks about what he's doing. Then he shrugs and pours himself a glass anyway. He promised Pepper he wouldn't go wild, not that he'd spend the whole time sober. The thought that this is a reliance he picked up from watching his father down half a bottle of whisky every time something annoyed him, that thought has been buried deep inside Tony's head from the third or fourth time he ever drunk. 

Howard is presumably down at the hotel bar hitting on anything with breasts and a pulse. He came back from the presentation and the meal in cheery good mood that Tony couldn't emulate. It turns out that in this instance Howard's 50s charm was preferable to Tony's flashy, fast talking approach, and Tony had ended up doing very little talking at his own client meeting. Tony very much doubted whether that charm would hold through the entire negotiation, which was suddenly a problem as the CEO of the company S.I wanted to incorporate had insisted that Howard be the chief agent of S.I in discussing the deal. The best Tony can hope for is that the CEO is as crass, arrogant and stuck in a racist, sexist past as Howard, and isn't that a lovely thought to end the day on?

He's headed for a bubble bath when Pepper calls, and he allows himself to wait until he's submerged in warm water before he takes the call. "Hey, Pep."

"You didn't call or email me with an update. How did it go?" Pepper asks. "Did he behave? Oh, god. I don't have to fend off any lawsuits do I?"

The anxiousness in her voice is cute. Pepper always seems put together, and hearing her like this is gratifying. Not because it makes her less superior, which wouldn't be true anyway, but because it's a sign of trust. Tony can hang on to that right now as his faith in his own charm and ability is recovering from a hard blow. "No lawsuits, no bail. He was a perfect gentleman. At least according to our new friends' secretary who was the only person who would speak to me the whole way through dinner. I'm not even sure why she was there, but you know what they say about gifthorses."

"She's the CEO's niece," Pepper says distractedly.

"Oh," Tony thinks on that as he swills his drink around his glass.

"So he didn't do or say anything offensive? Anything at all that's going to bite us in the ass later?" Pepper presses.

"Nope. Although we might want to keep a leash on him when he realises the secretary is the guy's niece, you don't even want to know some of the 'tactics' he employed when he was the boss," Tony says. "They like him, Thor's Dad help us."

A sigh. Then, "And there's no way Howard can be conveniently occupied the next time we need to talk to them?"

"Not a chance. He knows when he's got an opportunity," Tony tells her. They've been expecting some kind of move on Howard's part, some attempt at undermining Tony, Pepper or both. This was not how they expected it to happen though. They were hoping for something they undermine without Howard being able to use it against them. A public attack on Pepper as CEO or a lawsuit to win more of the company, maybe a sneak attempt to buy out shares or befriend board members. Winning the company new clients is difficult to respond to without backlash.

"Great." A strong visual of Pepper pinching the bridge of her nose assails Tony's mind's eye. He left the vid chat off due to his outfit of soap bubbles, but he knows Pepper so well he can almost smell the soy cappuccino she's doubtless nursing as they talk.

"Could be worse," Tony says, knowing even as he says the words that 'could' should probably be replaced with 'will'. This is a minor inconvenience in comparison to what's coming if this Howard is anything like the one Tony grew up with.

"Please tell me you're drinking coffee," Pepper says as Tony sips his drink, the sound slurping a little more than he intended. 

Tony pauses and winces at the clink of the ice on the edges of the glass. 

"Tony."

"It's one drink! One drink never killed anyone!"

Pepper sighs. 

"Pep," Tony whines. He doesn't dare take another sip while she's on the line. 

"Just... Don't have more than one?" Pepper begs. And ah, yes, this is why he'd cut down to near stone cold sobriety in the last year or so. There's no sound so unnatural and painful as Pepper begging. "Please?"

"Fine. Just one. I promise," Tony says, but he can't keep the sulk from his tone.

Pepper's voice is more than relieved when she answers him. "Thank you. If you keep that promise for the whole trip I'll let you consult with the Avenger's merchandising team."

"I can design Captain America underwear?" Tony perks up. He's only been begging to have some input on that shit since they Avengers first agreed to let S.I trademark their image and generate revenue for charities of their choice upon sale. 

"If you're good."

 

Getting home is... There isn't a word for it. The weight that drops from Tony's shoulders along with his tailored suit jacket as he enters the workshop and greets his bots is immense. He feels how he imagines Pepper feels from her expression when she takes off her bra at the end of the day. Not that she's done it in his presence for quite some time.

The familiar whirring from the bots and the hum from the server room he's hidden in the walls are like a mother's lullaby. Soothing and reassuring. He actually takes fifteen minutes to just breathe in the homeness of it all before he gets to work.

"Sir, Mr. Howard Stark is requesting entrance," JARVIS interrupts the calm and comfort. He sounds almost apologetic.

Tony sighs. "Lock up anything he hasn't already seen."

JARVIS does as instructed, work tables flipping or sliding into walls in a system inspired as much by Moe's bar in a late night Simpson's marathon as any science fiction or action film that's done the same. Every screen, physical or holographic, displays something innocuous. 

The door unlocks and Howard strides in like he owns the place.

"Don't you think we had enough father-son bonding time over the last week?" Tony snaps, too weary to inject more than mild annoyance into his voice.

Howard stops walking, hands in his pockets and eyes on the screen saver on a nearby holoscreen. "That's the thing, actually. I've been resistant to this new future, to the idea that you're my son in any way. But it's becoming clear that I'm stuck here, and you're the only family I've got, god help me." He looks appraisingly at Butterfingers. "I guess I should try to learn to appreciate what I've got. Who's this fella?"

"Butterfingers," Tony answers, not really sure what else to say. He can't trust Howard's reasoning. The man never showed any interest in being a family when Tony was actually his son, born and raised. Why would he want to be family now he can't tell Tony from Adam? 

Howard chuckles. "Funny little guy. You make him?"

"Yeah," Tony turns away and tries to find something to busy his hands with. The clean up protocol tidied up all his tools and projects so all he has left is a mug of mostly coffee that DUM-E made for him. He picks it up and tries not to visibly grimace at the taste. "He was here last time you were in here. The others, too."

"Is he autonomous?" 

"Mostly," Tony says. "Basic A.I. He takes orders, but he can break from them if he really wants to. They don't have much in the way of smarts, but the bots make pretty good helpers."

Howard nods and peers closely into Butterfingers' camera. 

"Made DUM-E, the first one, when I was in my teens. The others came later, then JARVIS," Tony says.

"About that, I've been meaning to ask. Why Jarvis?" Howard questions. "He was my-"

"Butler. I know. Was when I was growing up, too," Tony says. "Died a while ago now, but he always encouraged me. Seemed... right."

He hadn't meant to tell even that much. Howard didn't deserve the personal history and probably didn't care anyway, but it was hard to say nothing. Jarvis was far more than Howard's butler.

"Anyway, you probably came here for a more specific reason than family time," Tony recovers. He can't stomach any more of the 'coffee' so he puts it down. "Want to share with the class?"

Howard looks unimpressed and a little confused by Tony's way of speaking, but that's nothing new. "I wondered if you would like to start some kind of project together. We are both inventors after all."

Tony thinks back to the last joint project he worked on with his father. A small bomb with a high yield and a reliable remote triggering system, specifically designed for espionage. Tony nearly lost an arm. He was eight. Tony might be old enough by now to be aware of health and safety guidelines, rather than an eager, hyperactive kid working furiously to earn his father's approval, but a joint project between Howard and himself could only end badly. "That's... probably not such a good idea." 

Howard's eyes narrow. "You're worried I'll steal some of your designs?"

"No, I mean with your shares in S.I you own a small percentage of most of my patents anyway," Tony lies. Not about the patents part, unfortunately.

"So what's the problem?"

"We don't work well together, never have," Tony says. 

" _We_ have never worked together," Howard points out.

Tony laughs bitterly. "Close enough. Can you really picture us doing the teamwork thing? No competition or stupidity? We'd probably blow up the tower if we tried, and I can tell you from experience that you don't want to face Pepper when she gets the invoice for the repairs."

Howard stares for a moment. "Was I really that bad?" He asks. "I know I'm not the fatherly type, but I can't have been that awful."

What the hell is Tony supposed to say to that? He flounders. Howard wasn't abusive physically (aside from maybe a handful of occasions), didn't hurt Maria ever. Tony never wanted for anything growing up, the only neglect he suffered from was a lack of parental affection. 

"You could have been worse," is all Tony can manage in reply.

 "Such a glowing review," Howard says drily. 

"Yeah, well."

"I can't go back and fix any of that," Howard points out. He seems genuinely uncomfortable with the idea of being a bad father. Tony supposes Howard doesn't like to think of himself as being bad at anything.

Tony shrugs. "I'm not asking you to."

 

 

Howard left the workshop not long after that, and Tony was reliably informed that he took to his room with a bottle of whisky.

Tony feels slightly guilty, but he can't bring himself to lie about his upbringing just to make Howard feel better. Hell, he can't even bring himself to talk to Howard at all half the time. 

Team practice comes again. The first time in a while they've had two consecutive practice sessions without having to deal with a supervillain or mutant or alien invader some time in between. Thor is back, and as there's now a team member who can withstand the Hulk if necessary, Bruce joins them in Jekyl form. It's nice to have the whole team back together for a couple of hours, but Tony still hates this kind of thing. Hates it even more when Natasha insists for the second time that he not use the whole suit. It's pointless, in any real situation he'll have the suit on him or Steve won't even let him fight, but Natasha is adamant that Tony improve his reflexes and physical strength. 

Howard's reaction to Thor is worth the inevitable bruises though. It somehow hadn't occurred to Tony that Howard had yet to meet a god. 

 The moment he catches sight of Thor, Howard's face goes slack. "Is that..?"

"Thor, God of Thunder, Son of Odin. Yes, it is," Tony says with a grin. "Hi, buddy!"

"Man of Iron!" Thor greets enthusiastically, coming over for a bro hug that would engulf Tony even if he was wearing the full armour. "And this must be Howard Stark."

Tony's grateful that Thor leaves off any reference to his and Howard's relationship. For a loud, boisterous jock type, Thor can be surprisingly tactful. Tony supposes that at the end of the day, Thor was raised as a Prince, not just a warrior. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Thor," Howard says awkwardly, trying and failing to plaster his usual confidence and smoothness over the words. 

"It is my pleasure, as always, to meet any acquaintance of my dear friend Anthony's," Thor replies graciously. 

Tony sniggers. "Laying it on a little thick there, pal."

To his credit Thor doesn't seem confused by the colloquialism, just sidesteps it altogether. "Will you be joining us in our exertion?"

Howard shrugs. "I'm as fit and red blooded as any guy, but I'm not sure I'm a match for a literal God."

Tony stares at Howard in astonishment. The man's been wanting nothing more than to join in since he arrived in the present and all of a sudden he's acting humble?

"Very well," Thor agrees amicably. "Perhaps some other time. Friend Anthony?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be with you in a minute," Tony grumbles. 

Thor bows his head in acknowledgement and goes to join the others where they're warming up. Tony's not even sure the guy needs to warm up or if his divine body is always ready to go, but Thor's a team player and stretches alongside Natasha, gamely learning her routine.

 "So that's what talking to a God is really like," Howard says, shaking his head. 

Tony shrugs. "I guess so. He's more of an alien really, we just haven't caught up to his people's science yet. Like if we went back to the dark ages with a computer."

Another head shake, this time with no words accompanying.

"I'd better..." Tony gestures towards his team with a head tilt. 

Howard's eyes dart over to him. "You're fighting him without your armour?"

"Well, I'm sparring with him without the armour, yeah. But I've got my gauntlets and the rest of the team to help out, so," Tony says. Weird that this is what gets Howard to look impressed with him. Probably some macho bullshit. For some bizarre reason Tony feels the need to downplay it. "Look, I'm not exactly taking on a God mano a mano. It's not even a real fight."

"Don't let him fool you," Steve says from nowhere, clapping a hand on Tony's shoulder that makes him jump. "Tony faced up to Thor's brother alone and practically unarmed when he had to. There's a reason he's on the team."

Howard nods dumbly. 

Tony goes to join the fray, Steve not far behind.

"Dude's super impressed with Thor, huh?" Clint says when Tony gets close. "Don't get me wrong, Thor's pretty impressive, but I wouldn't have thought it of Mr. Ego over there."

"I guess everyone's impressed by something," Tony says, though he's pretty mystified himself.

 


	5. Chapter 5

"Did you ever actually want kids?" Tony asks, Howard to his right, both watching a mission play out in one of Coulson's strategy meetings. Apparently Howard has requested field training and sitting in with the Avengers as they, well train is a loose term for sitting on their collective asses watching footage of themselves, is part of his taster session.

The others either aren't listening or do a good job at pretending they aren't. It's probably latter. Half the team have espionage training after all. Still, the effort is appreciated.

Howard frowns without looking away from the screen. "One day, yes. Have to have someone to hand down these killer genetics to, along with my company. It's different now, of course."

The answer sounds matter of fact. Not a real desire so much as an expectation.

Tony uncrosses his ankles and taps on the arms of his chair. "But did you ever want a kid. To-to play ball with, or build robots with, or read bedtime stories to? Did you want to be a parent?"

Howard shrugs. "I can't say I ever gave it that much thought." He stops and actually looks at Tony. "Did I do those things with you?"

No, is the short answer. Tony looks back at the screen. "We made a pretty awesome mine sweeping bot when I was ten. Made a fortune in government contracts."

Howard actually looks faintly troubled by that.

 

 

Natasha finds him in the workshop after Couslon's released them. Howard was shuffled onto the next training exercise and Tony was supposed to go with and observe being that he's basically Howard's handler now, but he really doesn't feel like it. Everyone knows better than to try to force Tony into an activity he doesn't want to be a part of. Except Pepper. Pepper's magic.

"Howard's not doing too badly with his hand to hand training," Natasha tells him, making no real attempt to be nonchalant.

"Guy's a war hero and co-founder of SHIELD," Tony points out. "I'd be surprised if he wasn't doing well."

Natasha shrugs. "Do you think he'll try to join the Avengers?"

Tony snorts. 

"Do you think they'll let him?" She presses.

"Depends how far they're going to push their Stark control strategy. And don't even pretend that this isn't just as much about manipulating me as it is handling Howard," Tony says. "What about you? Do you think they'll let him join?"

"No."

It's good to hear her say it.

They sit in silence for awhile, Tony manfully ignoring Natasha's open speculation.

She shifts in place, a signal that she's going to start talking again unless he stops her. He doesn't. "They've asked him to start working again. And not just on a suit."

Tony nods. "I'm shocked it took them this long. What have they asked him for? Bombs? Guns? Our very own offbrand Doombots?"

"Everything," Natasha says. She hesitates long enough to serve as a warning. "Last I saw, they had him working on an advanced EMP charge."

Tony winces. "Ouch. Getting my own dad to work on taking me down."

"It's probably just a preventative measure," Natasha tells him, but she doesn't sound very reassuring. Her voice is full of undisguised distaste.

"Like Batman's lock boxes," Tony quips. "But I'll bet they haven't got him working on a serum inhibitor."

"He's not a chemist," Natasha points out, but she doesn't further dispute the claim. She breathes, a slightly deeper inhale than her regular breathing, and when she breathes out she slouches a little and the corners of her mouth turn up. "Want to go get a coffee?"

 

The coffee is great, the company is better, but it doesn't take his mind off the fact that SHIELD has Howard holed up designing weapons specifically to take Tony out. He's not sure whether he's more upset that SHIELD asked or that Howard said yes. On the one hand neither is particularly shocking, but the fact that even SHIELD agents who've known Howard all of ten minutes were confident that Howard would help them come up with plans for murdering or maiming his sort-of son is the most surprising part about it. Is it really that obvious that his own dad loathes him?

He'll openly admit to brooding over his Unicorn Frappe (he already had two coffee based drinks in under twenty minutes and Natasha cut him off). He won't openly admit that the frappe is disgusting. That would mean letting Natasha's judgemental eyebrow win. So he broods while sipping a syrupy mess of turquoise, purple and pink through a straw. Batman would weep.

"You don't have to finish that," Natasha says when he's about halfway through and trying desperately not to wince as he hits another sour part.

"What? Of course I do, it's delicious," Tony argues. "Full of.... Unicorn goodness and lots and lots of sugar. You know how I am with sugar."

The judgemental eyebrow rises a little more and Tony's brooding dissolves into a staring contest while he noisily slurps as much of the drink down in one go as he can. He's got to get used to the taste sooner or later, right? He can totally acquire a taste for the rainbow droppings of a fictional animal.

Once he's finished his drink he allows himself to go back to his brooding, and Natasha doesn't interfere. One of the best things about Natasha is that she doesn't try to cheer him up or make him feel better, she just broods right along with him. She's not quite of Bruce's 'negative emotions are important' thinking, but she's not of Pepper's fix it mentality or Steve's shrug it off mentality either.

"We should start our own SHIELD," Tony says as they leave Starbucks. Polite but clearly excited staff are waving them off and visibly resisting the urge to take pictures, and Tony remembers absently that he hasn't been to this branch since The Incident. "I mean, we wouldn't call it SHIELD, obviously. We could call it ARMOUR or SWORD or GAUNTLET or something, but we'd have to work out what all the letters would stand for. Avengers Revenge Mankind Over... something something? We'd need to work on that. I dunno. But I'm sure we could come up with something."

Natasha gives him the smile that everyone who even vaguely likes him seems to develop. The one that says 'you are totally ridiculous and your coping strategies need work but this is better than you having a full on breakdown'. It's a very loquacious smile. 

"Do you think Steve would join our SHIELD?" Tony asks as they make it back to the tower. "I mean, ours wouldn't have a history of trying to use the tesseract to make ray guns, that's got to count for something, right? Clint though. I think he's projected some of his family issues onto this SHIELD. But then if we get Coulson to come and you're already there-"

"Tony," Natasha cuts him off, batting his hand away from the elevator buttons and pressing the one for the communal floor. 

"-He might go for his spy twin over Daddy Fury," Tony continues regardless, only a little annoyed that she's very obviously (for her) keeping him away from the workshop. He pulls a face. "That wasn't meant to sound as kinky as it did. What do you think Fury would say if I called him Daddy to his face? Nevermind. Bad thoughts. Thor would definitely be on our team, same goes for Bruce. Do you think we could rope in Thor's girlfriend on account of we never stole her research? I could really use some more science buddies around here."

"I think if you have any more caffeine or sugar in the next five hours you're going to have a heart attack," Natasha says.

"I think if I try you'll stab me with a sedative again," Tony says mournfully, thinking of all the paperwork he has to do that's already two weeks late. People seem to think he never does his paperwork and Pepper lets him get away with it. That's not true. He does his paperwork whenever he doesn't have practical work. SHIELD work or Avengers work to do, which... Okay, 'never' is pretty close, but still not entirely accurate. Pepper knows what his schedule is like. She used to manually input it into her day planner just so it would stick in her head and she could boss him around to the next thing he had to do. 

Natasha inclines her head slightly.

Tony sighs and gives the coffee machine a longing glance before reaching for his tablet. 

"Fury wants your part of Howard's evaluation for field training by tomorrow," Natasha says, with no regard for Pepper's patent applications and department overviews.

"Why?" Tony asks, rubbing a hand through his hair and pulling at a handful of strands at the back of his head. "Surely I am the least qualified person to give an accurate judgement of Howard. Biased doesn't begin to cover it."

"Because you're his handler," Natasha says, voice slipping back into neutral as they discuss SHIELD stuff. 

"And I still don't get the reasoning behind that," Tony tells her. She herself has explained it to him at least a dozen times. The assumption is that the two Starks are the only ones able to keep each other in check, and that the skewed power dynamic will make them both eager to please those responsible for it. Natasha herself thinks it's the easiest way for Tony to keep an eye on Howard's progress with S.I and the suit. Coulson gave some reasons too, but Tony forgot them in favour of the belief that Coulson just finds it entertaining to torment him.

Natasha doesn't respond, instead opting to pull out her work phone and take a seat on the sofa. 

Tony glances at the health and safety review for the R&D department in California and shrugs, switching it out for a blank word processor with a SHIELD letterhead. He pulls up a holoscreen and keyboard above the shiny, tangible surface of the tablet and takes a seat next to Natasha. "You're explaining this to Pepper."

 

 

To Tony's great glee and amusement, Coulson knows about Howard's EMP and is not only disapproving, but also willing to steal files to help Tony stay a step ahead. It's out of character and Tony nearly suspects a pod person, but Natasha assures him that Coulson has always been a bit of a rebel and has done similar things for her and Clint. That he rates as a person important enough to Coulson to do the same stuff he does for Clint and Natasha blows Tony's mind for more than a little while until he rationalises that The Avengers are Coulson's childhood dream, and Tony is an Avenger. Coulson probably doesn't like other people fucking with his action figures.

Natasha tells him he's an idiot. In Russian. 

They get Starbucks before going to watch Howard's final evaluation it what has become a tradition every time Tony has to deal with Howard. He's pretty sure Natasha's trying to condition him in some way or another. Maybe she wants him to automatically get her a chai latte whenever he wants to whine about his daddy issues. 

It's a simple mission, and if Howard does somehow manage to do badly there are half a dozen agents on hand to fix it and extract him. A quick and easy info grab with no false identities to mess around with or targets to manipulate. All he has to do is get in the right room, use the truly foolproof gadget SHIELD gave him to copy the info from the secured intranet, and spend the rest of the evening schmoozing with fellow rich people.

Tony's required to be on comms as Howard's handler, but chances are he won't even need to turn the damn thing on. Natasha swivels her chair so she can throw her feet up onto his lap, showing that he's not the only one not feeling the need to act professional.  Coulson being Coulson is in a suit paying close attention to everything regardless of the informality of the room.

"So what happens if he passes?" Tony asks.

"Then he trains as a field agent," Coulson answers drily.

Tony pulls a face. "I meant what happens if he passes training? No way SHIELD's not even going to let their founder train."

Coulson sighs. "Then he becomes a field agent."

"Will I still be his handler? What about the Avengers? Will I have to quit? Will they try to put Howard on the team?" Tony pesters until Coulson finally removes his eyes from the surveillance feeds.

"Do I need to tranquillise you?" Coulson asks.

"Can't. I have to be conscious to handle Howard," Tony says gleefully. Coulson's too by the book to knock him out under the circumstances.

Natasha's smirk says otherwise.

"Howard will never be an Avenger," Coulson says vehemently, long after Tony had given up getting any kind of answer. "And you always will be."

Tony's actually tongue tied, fighting the warm feeling that's attempting to take over his chest cavity. If Coulson says it, it's as good as written in stone. "What if SHIELD presses the issue?"

"Then we'll branch out into our own organisation," Coulson says. "I'm confident all the Avengers would prefer it to the alternative."

Tony's almost too touched to be smug, but he manages to shoot Natasha a grin all the same. "What'd we call ourselves? See, I've actually given it some thought, and finding the right acronym is trickier than you'd think-"

"It doesn't matter, it won't come to that," Coulson says. Then adds, "we wouldn't use an acronym. We'd keep 'The Avengers'."

"Would SHIELD let us do that?" Tony asks.

Coulson shrugs. "What are they going to do? Sue us for copyright infringement?"

Actually, the Maria Stark foundation owns the copyright to use in the marketing of Avenger's merch to raise money for repairs after The Incident. Tony doesn't think it's worth mentioning.

"I think the assignment is a trap," Natasha says casually, not even lowering her feet from Tony's lap.

Coulson and Tony both turn to her. 

"What?" Tony asks, eyes flicking between the still unconcerning surveillance and her contemplative expression.

Coulson pulls forward on his chair, flicking his comms between agents and handlers to get more information on what's going on.

"I recognise him." She points a finger at a tall, skinny man on the screen in front of her. 

"What? Who is he?" Tony reaches to turn his comms on and warn Howard, but he's already turning to the tall guy in response to something. Tony curses. "Howard, get out of there. Nat recognises this guy, it could be bad."

Howard, unable to answer and probably even less willing, quirks a grin with a challenging look in his eye. He's going to finish the mission regardless and Tony knows it. 

"Coulson, we gotta extract him. He's not getting out of there on my say so," Tony says. Howard's handler he may be, but Coulson's still in charge here.

Coulson shakes his head. "We can't. If this is a trap we could put over a dozen key figures at risk forcibly extracting Howard. That room is full of political figures and benefactors. You need to get Howard to come cleanly."

"We can't just let whatever the bad guys are planning go down!" Tony protests, but he can't think of any other option off the top of his head. Until Howard's out of the room they can't do anything, and once he's out of the room he'll be vulnerable.

"An agent has to deal with unforseen threats," Natasha points out.

"He's not been trained for that yet!" Tony snaps, reaching for the keyboard to see if there's anything he can do from here. "Supposed to be a routine training mission, low risk, low reward," he mutters as he works.

Natasha spins around, feet now dislodged, and looks as close to contrite as she's ever likely to look.

Tony glances back at the surveillance feed and curses. He opens comms again. "As soon as you get the chance I'm gonna need you to stick your comms in his pocket. He'll search you if he's planning to take you anywhere, you need to get it on him before then."

Howard shows no sign of having heard him, but barely a minute later, he scratches at the spot beside his ear and the comms are gone. By the way he starts to get touchy feely with everyone, Tony can only assume the job is done and he activates the screen for the tracker in the comms unit.

"Not to make light of the moment," Coulson says, "but welcome to the world of a handler."

Tony ignores him, even though experience tells him that's probably a bad idea. He's too busy going over the building's schematics again, making doubly sure they have eyes on at every exit. His whole body thrums with the urge to call the suit, but his not inconsiderable intellect tells him that even at top speed by the time he got there Howard could already have been taken, and the HUD as awesome as it is wasn't designed for that kind of monitoring. He needs to be here for this part, watching and analysing. If he needs to, the suit can get there fast enough to give pursuit if he knows what he's pursuing.

There's also the fact that Coulson will probably shoot him in the foot if he decides to skip out on his first assignment as a handler.

So far the guy hasn't made a move, but that doesn't fill Tony with confidence. If the guy is taking his time, that means he thinks he has time to take. Tony rechecks the exits and comm feeds for the agents on site. Something's off here.

"Something's hinky about this," Tony mutters in Natasha's general direction. "Where did you say you recognised him from?"

"I didn't," Natasha shrugs. "I can't remember any specifics, I just recognise him and that's rarely a good thing."

Tony carefully doesn't show his reaction to that. Natasha 'The Black Widow' Romanov not remembering specifics about a potential threat is about as likely as Tony forgetting how to change a lightbulb. 'Hinky' suddenly seems wholly inadequate.

On screen Howard's on the move, the potential threat by his side as they step out into the still crowded entrance hall and from there into a sideroom.

"Why don't we have surveillance in the side room?" Tony demands to know as he loses sight of his father.

Coulson finishes conferring with an agent on the ground before answering. "The building has 162 rooms. We didn't think there was a justification for wiring the building."

Tony doesn't bother voicing his thoughts over that particular decision.

The comm signal doesn't move for another fifteen minutes and then it moves. Fast.

"Shit!" Tony shoves away from his chair. "I need to get the suit."

"Tony," Natasha interrupts his exit. "You're his handler. He needs you. So sit back down and be his handler."

Tony meets her eye ready to call bullshit and tell her he can do more in his suit than he can in this stupid little room. The look in her eyes stop him. It's not a threatening look, or a disappointed one or whatever it was he'd been expecting. It's another piece to this weird puzzle of a situation and he grasps it with both hands. He takes a breath. "Right."

Coulson watches on with an indecipherable expression, not seeming to pay much attention at all to what's going on over his earpiece.

Once he's taken his seat again Tony runs through possible destinations the abductor could have in mind, half an eye on the location of the comm signal, half an eye on the screen he's using to patch in with JARVIS. If he's going to play handler he's going to use all his resources, whether they're SHIELD resources or not.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. Short chapter and late to boot. I'm an awful person

Coordinating the strike teams is a lot like designing and inputting the operational procedure for the Iron Legion. Thankfully it takes a lot less time that the Iron Legion's stuff took, but the levels of strategy, concentration and organisation are the same. The signal from the communicator cuts off around the same time Tony has the first strike team within visual distance, meaning he gets immediate confirmation that the car the signal was coming from has entered an underground garage somewhere on the outskirts of Manhattan.

While Tony receives intel from the first strike team while also running through building blueprints for that area and keeping the second strike team in the loop, Coulson and Natasha... Well, to be honest Tony really doesn't know what they're doing. Coulson periodically talks into his earpiece, but always when Tony is already talking and so can't pay much attention to it, and Natasha just does whatever Tony directly asks her to do and not a thing more while somehow seeming to exert as much concentration as Tony himself.

Tony's instructing the third and final strike team, this one aerial, to hang back while the first strike team and the second strike team scout for security, surveillance and access, when a call comes through on his cell phone. He ignores it for as long as it takes to finish his instructions, then checks it. Because one thing he's learned over years of being a super hero is never to risk missing a call from Pepper that might be a kidnapper asking for a ransom. It may sound far fetched but it's happened more than once.

The call is from an unknown number, which should be impossible given JARVIS's screening protocols. 

"Jay?" Tony asks without answering. 

"Vocal recognition confirms the call is from Howard Stark," JARVIS responds.

Tony hits the answer key, followed by the one for speaker phone. 

"Tony?" Howard's voice comes through loud and clear on Tony's end, though Howard sounds like he's talking quietly.

"You should've left the situation when I told you to," Tony says, because he's not above 'I told you sos', especially when it comes to his Dad. 

Howard's huff of indignation and exasperation also comes through loud and clear. "I had a mission. I was trying to complete it."

"Yeah? Remind me how that's going for you," Tony snarks. "How'd you get a phone, and how is it getting signal when the communicator isn't?"

"Landline," Howard tells him. "I'm in an... Office."

"An office?" Tony repeats sceptically. 

"Yes."

"And they left you alone with a phone?"

"Well, no, but I saw the outlet for the phone line and went from there," Howard says. If he sounded any smugger Tony would hang up there and then, swear to god. "They think the room's secure. There's just some old furniture in here, a few rubber bands and paper clips."

Tony narrows his eyes. "Uhuh. Did you check for cameras?"

The silence on the other end speaks volumes.

"Really? You gerry rigged a phone from paper clips and rubber bands but you didn't check for cameras?" Tony says incredulously. "Seriously, what did they even teach you at pre-op training?"

"There aren't any visible cameras and everything in here looks like it hasn't been touched in months," Howard tries to justify.

"Wow." Tony mutes the phone a minute. "I can't be the only one wondering if they gave him brain damage while abducting him, right?"

Natasha shrugs. "He successfully slipped the communicator to his abductor and gerry rigged a phone. He's probably feeling overconfident. It happens to a lot of new agents." 

"Hello?" Howard's voice asks after a few seconds. 

Tony unmutes the phone. "Just... Search the room for cameras and sound devices. Take everything to pieces, look inside the goddamn stapler, just search the room."

Howard doesn't answer, but there are shuffling noises on the other end of the line.

Natasha reaches over and presses the mute key again. "You need to ease up on him. Nobody responds well to the attitude you're giving off, least of all Howard."

Coulson gives her a sharp look. "Tony's his handler, don't interfere."

Natasha's jaw twitches but she settles back placidly enough. 

Tony uses the time it takes Howard to search the room to continue directing the strike teams. Strike team two has found a viable entry point and is waiting for strike team one to secure it before they move in. Strike team three is in position for evac. Tony turns back to the phone. "Talk to me. You finding anything?"

Howard clatters about for a moment before coming back to the phone. His voice is beyond pissed off as he answers. "There was a bug in the stapler. A camera above the door frame."

Tony glances at Natasha. "Good job. Keep looking." He mutes the phone again and goes back to strike team one. "Waiting on intel from strike team three. Stand by." 

Strike team three's information, a map based on infrared scans of the building and the blueprints Tony already pulled up to show concentrated heat signatures and routes to and around them. 

Targeted audio is taking a little longer to pick up Howard vocal match and Tony tries to keep him talking. "Any updates?"

"Nothing. I don't think they thought I was a threat," Howard says, sounding torn between smug and offended. "There's nothing else here."

"Describe the room to me. How many windows? Is there only one door? How big is the room?"

Howard lists of the room specs and Tony uses the additional information to narrow down the potential target rooms. Eventually the audio comes back for the north side of the fourth floor and Tony uses the information from Howard to pick out the specific room. 

He feeds the generated map to the ground teams and gives the order to move in. When any advantage from the element of surprise has been lost, Tony turns back to the phone. "We've got strike teams on the way. Stay where you are and get ready for a fast exit."

Howard doesn't respond.

"Howard?" Tony double checks that the phone line is still open. "Howard? Come on, talk to me."

"Like hell am I waiting to be rescued like goddamned Rapunzel. I got the door open. Give me an intercept."

Tony curses. "That's not how this works. You're unarmed and could be used as a hostage. Stay put."

No answer.

Aware of Coulson's watchful gaze, Tony relays the new information to the strike teams and orders strike team three to keep track of Howard's heat signature. That done, he turns to the veteran handler. "So what now? My agent's gone off book and I can't contact him."

Coulson regards him silently for a moment. "I'm not here to hold your hand, Tony. This is your op, he's your agent, figure it out."

"Awesome," Tony practically snarls and turns back to the incoming video feeds from the strike teams. He's stuck doing nothing but watch as the teams clear the second and third floors. All he can do is hope to god Howard's as good as he thinks he is and not the cocky, green agent Natasha's pegged him as. Tony honestly doesn't know which version he buys into more, but the latter could easily get Howard killed.

"We've found him," the leader of strike team two announces while Tony's thinking wistfully of his armour. "Agent is unharmed. Exiting the building now."

"Copy that," Tony says. He didn't really bother to pay attention to the communications protocol either as an Avenger or while training with Howard, but he's sure he's heard people use that before. Or maybe that was just in movies. "Strike team one, continue to sweep the building. Strike team three, prepare for evac."

It takes another thirteen minutes before the building is cleared and Howard is on route back to headquarters. In that time, no hostiles are either discovered or engaged despite the initial infrared readings.

"So," Tony says, once the idea has solidified in his mind. "How'd I do?"

Natasha and Coulson exchange a glance.

"Near perfect score on every count but one," Coulson tells him. He pauses dramatically while Tony fights not to roll his eyes. "You lost control of your asset from the outset, failed to regain control, lost contact completely for most of the mission, and treated your asset like a target."

Tony pushes back a scowl and slouches back in his chair, arms folded. "And how was I supposed to stop any of that from happening? Howard's the one who kept doing whatever the hell he wanted, no matter what I said. And then he was kidnapped, how the hell was I supposed to keep contact with him? And as for treating him like a target... how? How did I do that?"

Coulson stares him down until he subsides. "You were supposed to handle Howard to prevent him from straying too far from orders, and predict when he would and plan for that eventuality. Losing contact over the abduction was unfortunate, but losing contact once Howard had the phone line operational was on you. You knew he'd refuse to listen to your orders, especially after you antagonised him, and yet you made no effort to plan for this or get him to work with you instead of against you. He might always have left that room, but if you'd handled him properly you could have directed him safely to a rendezvous, advised him of the building layout, urged him to be more cautious. Instead you sulked and he cut contact. As for treating him like a target, how long did it take you to use his perspective on his abduction and the space he was being held in? You only asked him for details of the room after you'd already scanned with infrared, possibly wasting precious time. You had an agent in a situation and barely engaged with him the whole time you were able to, let alone utilised him."

"I'm sorry," Tony says in a tone that is very much not sorry. "But I don't know what you want from me. You know my relationship with Howard, you should have known this would never work."

Natasha shoots him a disappointed look. 

"What?!" He snaps at her. "I told you all from the beginning this was a terrible idea! I'm a goddamn Avenger, not a handler, and certainly not Howard's handler."

"Aside from your issues with Howard, you did well," Coulson says. "As I said before, near perfect scores. You coordinated the strike teams seamlessly, you used all available information, kept track of all the variables. You panicked to begin with, but you calmed down quickly and kept your head the rest of the time."

"Great. Good to know. I'm out," Tony tells him.

Coulson says nothing, just raises a questioning eyebrow.

Tony gestures expansively to the computers and monitors. "Out. No more handler shit. I'm done. You want Howard handled, you do it yourself."

"Tony-" Natasha starts, but Tony doesn't let her finish.

"No!" Tony snaps. "Not another word. I didn't want this to begin with. Howard didn't want this. In what world did you think partnering up two people who loathe each other against the explicit wishes of both would be a good plan? This isn't a stupid buddy cop movie. I didn't even want Howard back in my life, let alone this shitshow! You've got him in my house, in my company and now in my goddamn job, and I'm not doing it anymore. My newfound 'brother' will be offered the New York mansion to himself along with control of a subsidiary company, I will be resigning effective immediately as his handler, and anyone who wants to argue, including Howard, will find themselves out on their ass. Am I clear?"

Neither spy responds. Not that he'd really expected them to. They were never going to agree or assent, and there isn't much else for them to say.

"Fantastic. I'll see you all next time we need to save the world." With that he storms out, not even pretending he isn't going for as much drama as possible. The moment deserves drama.


End file.
